An overwhelming week?

I have been heartbroken this past week for the victims and their families, for the fear and pain that permeate our country right now, and for the anger that holds so many hearts.  I have also been encouraged by the outpouring of prayers, money and supplies, blood donations, etc., that have gone to ease the need in those places hit by tragedy.  In tears, I responded to a friend that once again said how overwhelming this week of tragedy had been, and it hit me... Why was this week any more overwhelming than any other week? 

Please do not misunderstand me, as I do not want to discount the tragedy of the losses experienced this week here in our country and in our communities.  I grieve with those who lost loved ones, who lost their homes, who lost their security.  I only question why we do not feel overwhelmed every week, every day, because although these incidents happened "close to home," other tragedies occur every day all around the world.  We share the pictures of the fallen on the news, the children lost especially, but do we fail to recognize that children are dying of malnutrition, AIDS, and at the hands of terrorists in other communities at alarming numbers every day.  They live a bit further out, and we do not show their class pictures on the evening news (they probably have no school, little less  class pictures), but they are just as dead at the end of the day.  Communities live in constant fear of bombing raids and worst, yet their stories are not posted on our Facebook pages.  We do not send out prayers for them, or money, or supplies, or blood donations....  Even here at home, we fail to recognize that our neighbors are hungry, homeless, and without hope.  We do not consider the child who goes home to an empty apartment, fearing the noises and neighbors that surround him.  We do not consider the child who hides from fighting adults, afraid she will take the blow of their anger.  We do not consider the ill, mentally and/or physically who are denied health care and medications because of political  feuds and medical protocol.  We do not consider the faceless people that do not appear on our news screens or Facebook posts, and so we forget that the needs always exist, and the prayers should always be lifted, and the week is always overwhelming. 

Perhaps it's easier to block out all the bad news, to be able to wipe away tears and move on with life.  This week will fade for many, and the communities will resume a new normal that allows us all to go back to a renewed sense of security.  We are already feeling the relief as we scapegoat a few individuals that seemed to hold our security in their hands.  They are dead and in custody, and we celebrate???

I fear that we will all-too-soon resume a comfortable normal again, and our desire to help and our prayers will dwindle.  I fear this more than any young men with bombs.  I fear that we will continue to overlook the constantly overwhelming needs in our communities, both near and far.  I fear that we will fail to see the faces that are not broadcast on mass-media because we do not want to feel overwhelmed again like we did this week.  I pray.  I pray that we will continue to lift up prayers.  I pray that we will continue to offer aid and seek ways to show love and help those in need.  I pray that we will see the faces of those with tragedies of their own, and that we will learn to see them as sisters and brothers, as children of God.  I pray that we will continue to face (and recognize) overwhelming weeks, and that we may meet them with the overwhelming love and support that we showed this week to those who experienced these very public tragedies.  I am encouraged by the heroes and helpers of this week, and I pray that this spirit will not dwindle as the news turns to new news stories.  I pray that we may seek peace.  I pray that  we may show love.  I pray that we will continue to pray...  I pray. 

Sharing in Mary's Postpartum Depression

The holidays are full of splendor, and we share our love in so many ways.  We spend time with friends, give gifts, give to charities, smile more, wish complete strangers Merry Christmas, and share in this advent season of expectation and hope.  Much like pregnancy, there is a glow that comes in this time, and people seem friendlier, warmer.  We make plans, we prepare, we decorate and wrap and sing and bake and... then Christmas arrives!  We worship together and light our candles.  Our kids wake us up, our families meet and eat.  We were greeted this year with a white Christmas! Everything seems perfect, and we have finally arrived at that moment we have anticipated... and then it all comes crashing down. 
We realize we are tired.  Get-togethers spread germs, and we are sick.  We have messes to clean up.  We have to figure out what to do with everything new, and clean all the new clothes.  The white Christmas results in accidents and black-outs, heaters not working, leaking ceilings, and our homeless and poor neighbors left to the elements.  Parties lead to drunk drivers.  Gifts lead to bills.  Crimes rise.  Suicides rise.  Depression rises.  Giving decreases.  Food pantries are depleted.  Blood banks are low.  We remember those not with us this year.  We have been anticipating Christmas, the birth of our Lord, and we find ourselves in a barn with a baby. 
I'm sure Mary must have anticipated something much grander for the birth of God's baby as well.  When the angel said, "Do not be afraid, Mary.  You have found favor with God," I'm sure she imagined a slightly easier birth plan.  Joseph probably didn't anticipate another visit shortly after the birth saying to get out of town, run to Egypt, be a fugitive and foreigner, nor the following slaughter of innocent boys in pursuit of the child they would raise.  I even considered this year what a two-year-old or five-year-old Jesus must have been like, and wondered if there was a reason for the "missing years."  :) 
Just like an expectant mother anticipates the beauty and wonder of her new bundle of joy, we go into the Christmas season with hope and wonder.  We sing and worship.  We give.  We love.  ...And then life happens, and we find ourselves less than happy for various reasons, and we feel sad, we feel guilty, we feel worried.  I can't help but be mindful this time of year of those sharing in Mary's post-partum depression.  Have you been there?  Have you wondered why you can't experience the joy you so anticipated having?  I also have to remember, though, that life is a constant roller-coaster of ups and downs.  We can't keep Mary pregnant forever (ask any over-due pregnant momma), and Jesus must grow up to be our teacher and savior.  We can't afford to celebrate Christmas everyday, and we also can't lull in the day after too long.  We are still called to love, to give, to serve, to worship.  Just as parents don't stop being parents, we don't stop being Christians, regardless of the liturgical year.  And so, tonight, I pray for those in the lull that they may find joy again, and I pray that we may all find a bit of that same loving and giving spirit year-round.  I hope all your Christmases were blessed, as mine was, but I pray continued blessings for all the days in between!  How will you bless another this week?

Child's Play

Recently my husband and I were discussing the games we played and loved as children.  He shared that he loved the game "Red Rover," where two lines of people hold hands and chant, "Red Rover, Red Rover, let *** come over," and then one person would hurl themselves to the other side, attempting to break their chain and pull someone to the other side, etc., etc.  I never much cared for this game, and instead I preferred those "clappy" games, where a pattern of claps are established, and the group works in unison to preserve this pattern.  I really liked one to which we sang "Rockin' Robbin."  Here's the issue that came to mind later.  The games we play as children set up a way of thinking about the world in its little childlike microcosm.  My games seemed friendly, and they were, but they established a way of thinking that said there is a right, a correct, way of doing things, and you don't want to branch out or think for yourself because it will mess everyone else up.  "Red Rover," on the other hand, is what I see a lot of, with this side versus that side... hurling our ideas and insults at each other in an attempt to break through to another group and pull some back to our side, our way of thinking... and someone inevitably gets hurt at this game.  These are both games with rules, though, and not purely child's play.  I look at my four kids, and I see four individuals, sometimes playing together, sometimes fighting, and sometimes playing on their own.  My best example, though, is when music begins to play, as it often does in this Christmas season.  I received the ugliest "White Elephant" gift last year, a fish named Frankie that sings obnoxiously, and my kids love it.  Regardless of anything else going on, they will stop and dance to this fish's music.  They all dance differently, one ballet-esque, one bouncing, one running around like crazy, and yet another bobbing her head side-to-side.  There are no rules to the dance, but to follow one's heart and the beat to which they dance... and somehow it is all precious all together, however chaotic.  I think we ultimately could learn from child's play, from dancing our own dance.  If we could all forget about the correct, the right, the rules, the culture-established norms, and hear instead the music that makes us want to dance as children, I think we would find that we share in the same source of such a musical beat, and we would be able to dance differently, yet symbiotically.  Can you think of a better form of child's play to learn from?